by Lydia Dare
Alec didn’t even finish the thought before he found himself pressed against the door, Ben’s arm beneath his throat, his feet several inches off the ground.
“I’ll not allow anyone to speak of Miss Campbell that way,” Ben snarled.
Alec grunted and pulled against Ben’s arm, but Ben ignored his struggle. “Put me down,” he gasped.
Ben fought his conscience, unsure of how to respond. The wolf in him wanted to show his dominance, to make Alec come to heel. But the friend in him was ready to release the poor gent. The choice
was taken from him when the door was flung open and they both fell inside in a heap.
Eight
“Just what do ye think ye’re doin’, Lord Benjamin?” Miss Macleod asked, her hands upon her hips, standing above them.
Alec pushed him off and shrugged to his feet. “Protecting Miss Campbell’s honor, I believe,” he muttered as he held a hand out to Ben and pulled him up.
“From ye?” Miss Macleod asked. “Why in the world would he need ta do that?”
“Why, indeed?” Alec asked, his head cocked to one side as he regarded Ben with curiosity.
Ben dusted himself off and leveled Miss Macleod with his haughtiest look, the one only sons of dukes ever seemed to master. “What’s the matter with Mr. Campbell?”
Her lip quivered and she blinked back tears. “He’s dyin’. He has been for some time. El’s done everythin’ she can ta keep him alive.”
Elspeth couldn’t possibly have the funds to hire a decent physician. Ben took in the cottage. It was tidy and clean, but quite small. Different in every way from the Fergusons’ mansion and the Macleods’ impressive home. Paying for a physician wasn’t, however, a problem for him.
He turned to Alec. “What are you waiting for, MacQuarrie? This is your city. Find your best doctor and bring him here.”
Miss Macleod gasped. “Ye think a doctor can do better than Elspeth has?”
Ben frowned at the girl. Was Alec right? Were they all uneducated and superstitious? “Knowing herbs is one thing, Miss Macleod, but science is another. The finest medical school in Britain is here in your fair city.”
She puffed herself up to her fullest height. “Thank ye for seein’ her home, but I think ye should leave now, my lord.”
If she’d punched him, he wouldn’t have been more shocked. Alec clapped a hand to his back. “Come along, Westfield. I’ll take ye home.” Then he smiled at Miss Macleod. “Will you be all right here, lass?”
She nodded. “Thank ye, Mr. MacQuarrie, for everythin’.”
Ben allowed himself to be dragged from the cottage. “There’s nothing to be done, Westfield,” Alec said.
“How can you say that? Are all you Scots completely mad?”
Alec pulled open the door to his coach. “You can call on her in the morning if you’re of a mind.”
Against his better judgment, Ben climbed inside the coach and settled against the leather squabs. “This feels wrong, Alec.”
His friend sighed as the coach slowly rambled down the dark lane. “You know as well as I there’s nothing to be done for a wasting disease, Westfield. Even London’s most prestigious doctor wouldn’t be able to save Mr. Campbell.”
A wasting disease? Ben cringed as he realized Alec was right. Poor Elspeth.
Elspeth clasped her grandfather’s hand. It was clammy and she noticed his pulse had slowed dangerously. She shouldn’t have left him to go to Sorcha’s silly party. “Papa, can ye hear me?”
She felt a hand on her shoulder and looked back to see Caitrin swipe a tear from her eye.
“He’ll be all right,” Elspeth vowed.
But Caitrin shook her head. “Ah, sweetheart, I wish it were so.”
She blinked at her friend. “What do ye mean by that?”
Caitrin smoothed Elspeth’s wild hair and sniffed back more tears. “Mr. MacQuarrie was walkin’ me ta my door when I saw yer grandfather, El, in my mind. He’s no’ goin’ ta wake up. I sent for ye as soon as I realized.”
Tears poured from Elspeth’s eyes as she turned back to her grandfather. She clutched his hand tighter and willed him to wake. “Papa, I’m here. Doona leave me.”
Caitrin squeezed her shoulders. “Ye should get some rest. Ye’re goin’ ta need it.”
Elspeth shook her head. “Ye saw him die?”
“Aye.”
“Then ye must’ve seen me stay with him until then.” She’d never leave him. Not now. Not when he needed her the most.
“Aye,” Caitrin whispered. “I saw that, too.”
Elspeth barely noticed when the others arrived. But soon her grandfather’s small room was filled with all the witches of the Còig.
Sorcha and Blaire lit candles in every corner. Then the five of them joined hands around Mr. Campbell’s bed, Elspeth’s sisters offering silent support.
Elspeth had never felt so helpless in all her life. What was the point of being able to heal others if she couldn’t save her own grandfather?
In the dead of night, old Liam Campbell took a loud, deep breath and released it. His chest stopped rising and falling. Elspeth staggered to her feet and pulled the family plaid up under his chin. She kissed his cold cheek and stumbled from the room.
Caitrin stopped Sorcha from going after Elspeth. “She needs some time alone.”
Sorcha bit her bottom lip but did as she was asked.
“There’s somethin’ ye’re no’ sayin’,” Rhiannon whispered, successfully catching the others’ attention.
Caitrin hated that she was so easy to read. Still, there was no point in denying the truth. She nodded. “It’s the Sassenach, MacQuarrie’s friend.”
“Lord Benjamin?” Blaire asked.
“Aye. I’ve seen him before.”
“When ye went ta London last year?” Sorcha reasoned.
“Mo chreach, ye’re daft,” Rhiannon complained. “He’s the one, Cait? The one from yer vision?”
“Aye,” Caitrin admitted. She hadn’t been certain until after she and Alec MacQuarrie had left the ball. A vision flashed in her mind during the short journey home before she’d seen Mr. Campbell take his last breath. Westfield intended to take Elspeth from them; there was no doubt in her mind. He wore the mark she’d seen weeks earlier.
“I ken he was trouble,” Rhiannon grumbled. “He had her hair undone. No gentleman does such a thing.”
“But she said nothin’ happened,” Sorcha protested.
As the two of them argued, Blaire touched Caitrin’s arm. “What’re we ta do?”
“I doona see us keepin’ her,” Caitrin whispered, the words ripped from her soul. But it was true. She didn’t see them winning.
“Well, we canna give her up. Ye say the man’s a beast?”
Unable to speak, Caitrin only nodded.
“So we’ll fight ta keep her. We’ll move her ta yer house. She’ll stay with ye and we’ll outlast him. He canna get through all of us.”
It was a losing battle. But Blaire was right, they couldn’t just give up on Elspeth. She was part of them. She was their sister.
“Rhiannon, make the arrangements with the vicar, will ye?” Caitrin asked.
“Of course.”
“And, Sorcha, ye and Blaire can help me pack up the house. The sooner we move Elspeth, the better.”
Elspeth sat in a small chair and stared off into her memories. She knew this day was coming, but it was still hard to believe. It didn’t seem all that long ago that her grandfather had been a robust man, the strongest she knew.
Rhiannon explained before she left that she’d make the arrangements with the vicar, and Elspeth nodded silently. There wasn’t much else she could do. Then she realized Caitrin and the others were packing up her herbs and oils.
She stood on shaky legs. “What do ye think ye’re doin’?”
Caitrin rushed toward her. “Doona worry, dearest. We’ll get yer stores settled right.”
“Why do they need settlin’?”
Caitrin swallowe
d. “Well, ye’re goin’ ta come stay with me for a while.”
Elspeth shook her head. “I’m no’ goin’ anywhere. This is my home, Cait.”
“Ye shouldna be alone right now. Ye’ll just stay with me for a little while.”
“No. This was my grandfather’s home. It’s my home. I’m no’ goin’ anywhere.”
Caitrin draped her arm around Elspeth’s shoulders. “Be reasonable. Ye’ve been through so much.”
“And there’s the man with the mark,” Sorcha added with a quiver to her voice.
Elspeth stepped out of Caitrin’s hold. “I’ll no’ run from him. My father could knock down that door right there, and I’ll no’ leave with him. And I’ll no’ leave with ye. This is my home.” It was filled with memories of her grandfather and she wasn’t leaving. They couldn’t make her.
“But Lord Benjamin,” Sorcha began. “What about him?”
A hysterical laugh escaped Elspeth. “What about him, Sorcha? I ken ye doona like him, but he’s a nice man. That’s all. What do ye think the brother of a powerful English duke wants with me? Nothin’, that’s what. Now enough of this. I doona want ta hear any more.”
“But what if he’s the man?” Sorcha persisted. “The man with the mark?” The girl’s eyes flashed to Caitrin.
Elspeth felt the last of her patience evaporate. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard. I bear the mark myself. Doona ye think I’d feel it if another were near?”
“Do ye feel it?” Caitrin whispered.
She felt nothing now but emptiness. “Of course no’. This is foolishness. I appreciate all of ye bein’ here for me, but I doona want ta hear any more of this nonsense. When my father arrives, I will speak ta him. I’ll ask him a lifetime’s worth of questions, I’ll find out what he wants from me. But I’ll no’ go with him. Now I’d very much like ta be alone.”
“Promise ye won’t go off with Westfield, and we’ll leave.”
“Out!” Elspeth yelled. “All of ye!”
Nine
Ben sat bolt upright in bed. What an awful dream. Another moonful had come and gone without his changing. He heaved a sigh and fell back against the feather pillows. He would go in search of Rosewyth Campbell in the morning, just as soon as he checked in on Elspeth.
A wasting disease. He shivered at the thought. When his time came, he hoped it was quick and easy. He didn’t want to wither away before the people who loved him. The poor girl. He hadn’t even been able to wish her a good night, make sure she was all right.
Ben crossed his hands beneath his head and thought about how she had looked as she ran through the woods. He had never seen anyone so passionate or uninhibited. She’d lifted her skirts and run. Run like a wolf.
Ever since Ben was a boy, he’d loved to run. He’d far outdistanced his friends and his brothers. Even other Lycans could not match his speed or stealth. But he’d been matched by a mere slip of a girl.
Suddenly he knew what he had to do. He had to
see her. Ben rose and dressed in the dark of night. His purpose for coming to Scotland was to find the healer. But he’d found more than that. He’d found a fieryhaired beauty who was vulnerable. And she called to the wolf in him, unlike anything else had for quite a while. He walked quietly down the stairs and reached for the door handle. But Alec’s voice stopped him.
“Where you off to, Westfield?”
“Why are you up?” Ben shot back.
“Messenger woke me an hour ago. Now it’s your turn.” He raised an eyebrow at Ben.
“I was going to see Miss Campbell. To see how her grandfather is doing.”
“He didn’t survive the night,” Alec said as he shook his head.
“How do you know?” Ben spun to face him.
“Miss Macleod sent a messenger when he died. That’s what woke me. I asked her to let me know when something happened. I am surprised she sent her man so late—or early, as the case may be.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ben snapped.
“And what would you have done?” Alec narrowed his eyes. “You’re nothing to the girl, Ben. You can’t help her through this.”
“I could try,” he mumbled.
“You’ve never cared for anyone, aside from your brothers. You’ve been with more women than I can count on my fingers and toes. And never for more than a night.” He advanced toward Ben. “You’re not good for her.”
“And who are you to decide that?” Ben felt a blinding rage. He pressed through it. During most of the time that he was tarnishing his name, Alec had been right beside him. “Who made you her guardian?”
“Not her guardian.” His friend shook his head. “But I know she’ll not be safe with you. You’ll ruin her. Then you’ll disappear, like you always do. She’ll be left to pick up the pieces of her tattered reputation. Her mother had a hard life. I’d not want the same for her.” He clasped Ben’s shoulder. “You hear me? She’s a good girl. Leave her be.”
“She’s all alone?”
“She has friends. They’ll take care of her.” He shot Ben a warning glance.
“Who’s with her now?” he pressed. He needed to know she wasn’t alone.
“I’m not sure anyone is at the moment. Miss Macleod’s note said the lass kicked them all out.”
Ben chuckled at the image of his fiery Elspeth doing just that.
“It’s not funny,” Alec reprimanded him with a scowl.
“No. It’s not funny at all,” he agreed. “It’s sad.” He turned and started back up the stairs.
“You’re giving up so easily?” Alec asked.
“I’m not good for her. You said so yourself.”
“Well, I never expected you to agree,” Alec mumbled as he walked back toward his study. “But I’m glad you do. Rest easy, Westfield.”
Ben tried to maintain a casual pace as he ascended the stairs. But as soon as he turned the corner out of sight, he sped up. He went back to his room and crossed to the window. Only two stories up. He’d jumped farther before.
Ben pushed the window up slowly, happy to hear that it made little noise. He swung one leg over the side and then the other. He hung by his fingertips until he finally dropped, landing in a crouch in some soft moss. But he immediately rose and jogged across the back lawn and into the woods. Then he let his senses lead him to her.
He didn’t stop until her cottage came into view, then he stopped and shook his head. It wasn’t even dawn. What madness had come over him? In the back of his mind he could hear Simon lecture him for his reckless impulsiveness.
Not that it mattered. The pull Elspeth Campbell had over him was too strong, and he couldn’t turn away if he wanted to. He continued toward the door.
Before he could knock, it opened and Elspeth gasped. “Mo chreach! Ye frightened me!” A pail dropped from her hands.
“My apologies, Miss Campbell.” He reached out his hand to keep her from falling and grasped a handful of her skirts.
Her eyes widened and she backed away from him. “What do ye think ye’re doin’?”
Ben heaved a sigh. This wasn’t going at all the way he’d planned. Who was he kidding? He hadn’t planned a bloody thing. “I just wanted to see you. MacQuarrie told me about your grandfather, and I wanted to make sure you were all right.”
She looked into the darkened night. “No horse? Did ye walk all the way here, my lord?”
He took a step toward her, not even trying to hide the grin on his face. “I took the path you showed me. I didn’t know another way.”
Elspeth stared at the handsome Englishman. It would be so easy to get lost in the depths of his eyes. How could Sorcha possibly believe this man wore the mark? She shook her head to dispel such foolish thoughts. “Ye shouldna be here. I have things ta do.”
“What things could you possibly have to do in the middle of the night?”
Elspeth retrieved her pail of tar. “People will start comin’ to see him in the mornin’. I need to blacken the door and—”
�
�Blacken the door?”
“‘Tis tradition, Lord Benjamin.”
“You Scots and your traditions,” he said with a smile and reached out his hand toward her pail. “I’ll do it.”
She motioned toward the house with her hand. “I already stopped the clocks. But I havena covered the mirrors yet,” she said absently, but she let him take the pail from her.
“You should rest.”
Elspeth swiped a tear from her eye. “I’m tired of everyone tellin’ me ta rest. I’m just fine.”
“Yes,” he said, his deep voice rumbling over her like a caress. “I can see you don’t need anyone.” Lord Benjamin closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. Elspeth couldn’t help but sag against him, even though she knew she shouldn’t. It was heaven not to support her own weight, so she let him do it for her.
“I canna stop,” she said, unable to keep her voice from cracking. “If I do, I’ll no’ be able ta start again.”
“I know,” he said softly. He didn’t even pull away
when she began to sob against his chest. “It’s all right,” he crooned, his voice soft and melodic, and he rubbed her back with the flat of his palm.
Elspeth clutched the lapels of his coat in her hands as she pressed her forehead into his strong chest. “I’m sorry ta be such a bairn.”
He tried to tip her chin with his finger so that she would look up at him, but she didn’t move her head. By now her eyes were probably all red and her nose puffy. But he didn’t give up. His hand cupped her face and tilted it toward him.
Her eyes met his with a jolt. “You’re not a baby,” he said softly. “You’re human, that’s all.” The pad of his thumb stroked her cheek. “I’m sorry your grandfather died.”
“I’m sorry I wasna here,” she whispered.
“He wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer, too, love. I’m sure of it.”
She knew his words were meant to be comforting, but they simply started another storm of emotion. When he bent and slipped one arm beneath her legs to pick her up, she didn’t argue. She just wrapped her arms around him. She couldn’t even find the strength to protest when he sat down on the bench outside the front door and placed her on his lap.